The Corbulo Chronicles - Victims of Time
2378 Two days after the temporal incident The young Ensign, a Bolian female of approximate age to that of a 20-year old Human, focused on the small rectangular panel that flashed as the turbolift passed deck after deck on its way to the bridge. The somewhat dishevelled Ensign found it was the only way she could ride in the turbolift with the officer to her left without appearing to gawk at the cybernetic implants that lay affixed to the left side of her head. Seven-of-Nine had noticed the Ensign’s discomfort. It was something she had become accustomed to since having arrived in the Alpha Quadrant along with the starship Voyager just a few weeks earlier. Many of her crewmates aboard Voyager had warned her of how some might react to being around a former Borg drone but she had dismissed it since she was used to being an outsider aboard the now famous starship. That was a long time ago however. After four years she had not noticed how deeply she had become integrated in to the ship not just as a crewmember but as part of the family that is often forged aboard starships. Once the euphoria of Voyager’s return wore off she realised that her “family” was dispersing to be with their own real families who they had missed so very dearly. She had taken Captain Janeway’s advice and made contact with her own family from before she was assimilated and while some of them remembered the little girl, Annika Hansen, it was impossible for them to make the link to Seven who quietly walked out of their life once more. Starfleet Command was more than happy to give Seven work to do to occupy her time. She began touring Starfleet bases giving exhaustive briefings on the Borg to Captains and Admirals alike. It was during one such briefing at Starbase 588 that the temporal incident, as it was being referred to, tore up the galaxy catapulting past people and places into 2378 and subsequently eradicating those they replaced. Starfleet, still somewhat depleted from the Dominion War, took even more losses and so every ship that could be mobilised was dispatched on search and rescue missions and to establish just what this new galaxy looked like with pockets from the past in it. ]] Seven had hoped to return to Voyager ''but then the news broke that the ship and a large number of her crew had not survived the temporal incident. Unsure how to mourn such a loss, she volunteered for frontline service with Starfleet and was assigned to the which was finishing a refit at Starbase 588. Captain Whitworth, short on crewmembers, made her his science officer and granted her a field commission of Lieutenant Junior Grade. Unlike Captain Janeway, he insisted that she wore a Starfleet uniform on his ship the purpose of which was to ease her integration in to the Starfleet crew but also served to remind Seven that ''Voyager ''was now behind her. The turbolift stopped and the doors hissed open to reveal the bridge of the USS ''Corbulo. One of the last Constellation-class starships in Starfleet service, the Corbulo had undergone its refit to allow it to serve out its last few years as one of Starfleet’s “hack ships” – an unflattering term that stems from the days of military aviation on Earth and referred to a ship assigned to the more mundane day-to-day tasks of Starfleet such as transport and internal security duties. The Temporal Incident had of course changed all that and now the ship was thrust in to the frontlines once more to shore up Starfleet’s numbers which were still being counted over 48 hours later. The Bolian Ensign rushed out of the turbolift as though she had been freed from a cage. Seven on the other hand strolled out confidently carrying her PADD in her right hand as she walked up to Captain Whitworth as he sat in the captain’s chair with a small, white disposable cup in his hand from which the aroma of Vulcan coffee wafted around him. He was in the middle of taking a sip of the potent, stimulating beverage when he spied Seven approaching him. “My latest scans of the remnant temporal distortions in this sector that you asked for,” she announced almost robotically as she handed him the PADD. “There are three significant distortions within a four light year radius all of which continue to dissipate.” “Thank you,” he said almost in a mutter as he took the PADD off her with his free left hand leaving his right hand to allow him to keep drinking the coffee. As he began to read over the report, Seven took a look around the bridge. The metaphorical “brain” of the ship disguised the age of the Constellation-class vessel. During an earlier refit before the Dominion War the entire bridge module had been replaced with a more up to date one based on that used on some ships. The helm and the ops stations sat ahead of the captain’s chair in front of the viewscreen while stand-alone stations flanked the captain’s chair; the tactical station was to his right while the science station was to his left. On the rear walls were four tertiary stations that could be configured for a variety of uses depending on the mission requirements. “You expect the temporal distortions in this region to dissipate completely within 17 hours?” said Captain Whitworth. His voice snapped her attention back on to him. “17 hours, 12 minutes, approximately.” “I see,” he said placing his thumb on the scanner at the bottom of the PADD which confirmed he had seen the report before handing it back to her. “How are you settling in? Do your quarters meet your, uh, needs?” “The quarters are,” she said before pausing to find an appropriate word until settling with, “adequate.” “I see,” he said with an inquisitive tone. Seven sensed his unspoken question and so she explained, “My equipment for regenerating. It has been set up for use with my bed.” “Is that a problem?” “I am not used to laying down to regenerate my Borg implants. On Voyager my alcove was vertical.” “I will have someone from engineering modify it for you,” said Whitworth politely feeling it was within the parameters of his duty of care to his crew to make sure all their medical needs – no matter how unorthodox – were met. “No!” blurted Seven which caught Whitworth by surprise. “There are more important tasks to be carried out in the present situation. I will adapt.” “Are you sure?” “Yes…Thank you,” she said in an obligatory manner. Whitworth was about to add something when he was cut off by Lieutenant Saxa, a Betazoid male who was based at Starbase 588 but was now filling the role of tactical officer and effectively first officer aboard the Corbulo. A number of the Corbulo’s crew had been transferred from Starbase 588 since the ship had yet to receive her designated crew when the Temporal Incident occurred. “We’re picking up a distress call, Captain!” said Saxa. “Audio only.” “Let’s hear it,” said Whitworth before turning to Seven and adding, “Man your station, Lieutenant!” “Aye sir,” she replied before standing in front of the science station on Whitworth’s left. The audio system crackled in to life as a female voice spoke through static. “This is the transport ship Novelle; we are under attack by a Tzenkethi warship. Can anyone respond?” Whitworth signalled to Saxa for him to open a channel. “''Novelle'', this is the starship Corbulo! We are enroute to your location. Stand by.” “Please hurry!” pleaded the voice before the channel closed. “Red alert!” ordered Whitworth. “Helm; lay in an intercept course and engage. Maximum warp.” The starship’s four warp nacelles glowed brightly as the ship engaged its faster-than-light propulsion. In a bright flash the ship was gone as distances measured in light years passed by effortlessly. After a short journey time Saxa reported. “Now in visual range, Captain.” “On screen.” The viewscreen changed from an image of stars streaking passed to the sight of a Federation transport ship that looked like an oversized shuttlecraft taking hit after hit on its shields from the Tzenkethi ship. Blue gases were escaping from the Federation ship’s port warp nacelle and were drawing a long blue line behind it. The Tzenkethi warship was continuing to swoop down on the transport increasing the ferocity of its attack but otherwise ignoring the Corbulo. “Hail the Tzenkethi,” ordered Whitworth who made a brief mental note about how the Tzenkethi ship appeared to be of an older type. “No response,” replied Saxa. “We’re coming in to weapons range, sir.” “Helm, bring us out of warp,” ordered Whitworth. “Mr Saxa, target the Tzenkethi’s weapons array. Let’s make sure we get their attention.” “Target locked, sir,” replied Saxa. “Phasers; two second burst. Fire!” he ordered. From the ventral hull of the Corbulo’s deep saucer section a bright beam of yellow and orange phaser fire erupted from its forward phaser array and struck the Tzenkethi warship. Its shields were unable to hold back the weapons fire and collapsed under the onslaught allowing the phaser beam to strike the weapons array directly. Within a few seconds, the Tzenkethi ship began to rip open from internal explosions before its warp core breached destroying the vessel. Whitworth launched up off his seat and almost stumbled two steps forwards in both disbelief and horror. He had intended to disable their weapons or at the very least force them to turn their attention away from the Novelle and on to the much better protected Corbulo. He turned to Saxa and asked, “What happened?” Saxa too was shocked. He began reviewing his sensor logs which gave him an answer that he then relayed to Whitworth. “Their shields collapsed under our fire. I-I didn’t think…I’m sorry, sir. I take full responsibility.” “I’m the Captain, Lieutenant,” said Whitworth sullenly. “The responsibility is mine.” “We had no choice but to engage them,” added Saxa. “Thank you, Lieutenant, I shall note your opinion in my log,” said Whitworth in a tone that indicated that there was nothing more to be said on the matter of blame. Being a Betazoid, Saxa’s empathic powers sensed the guilt emanating from Whitworth. He had not even been Captain for a week and already he had taken lives. The fact his hand had been forced was little consolation as Saxa could sense an element of doubt in Whitworth indicating that the Captain was criticizing his own performance or contemplating other options that might have not necessitated the deaths of the Tzenkethi crew. These feelings were no doubt exacerbated by Whitworth’s lack of experience in the Captain’s chair. “Stand down from red alert,” Whitworth instructed and the lights on the bridge returned to their normal settings. He then tapped his combadge. “Bridge to sickbay; stand by medical teams. Engineering; prepare a repair team. Assemble in transporter room one.” “Captain,” said Seven calling his attention. Whitworth turned his seat to the left to face Seven as she stood by the science station. “I believe I have an explanation for why the Tzenkethi ship proved so fragile.” “I’m listening,” replied Whitworth. “I have scanned some of the wreckage and detected residual, highly-charged chroniton particles indicating that the vessel may have been pulled through time from the past by the Temporal Incident. A vessel from the past would be inadequately shielded against the'' Corbulo’s'' upgraded phasers.” Saxa had heard Seven’s remarks which triggered a memory. “This whole area of space was heavily contested by the Tzenkethi during the border wars some 30 years ago. It was rife with Tzenkethi commerce raiders; ships that would go out and hunt down cargo ships to try and strangle the Federation logistics chain. That would explain why they continued firing on the transport ship when we showed up. They hoped to destroy the transport and then use their speed to escape a fight with us.” “More victims of the temporal…''incident'',” spat Whitworth. “How many more?” Category:The Corbulo Chronicles